


White Christmas

by MW01



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, sg1secretsanta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 04:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17114360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MW01/pseuds/MW01
Summary: SG1 Secret Santa 2018 Prompt: Christmas at the Cabin.





	White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [z_Bohemian_Butterfly_z](https://archiveofourown.org/users/z_Bohemian_Butterfly_z/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to @Love_Letters_x_Cardigan_Sweaters on Tumblr! I really hope you like this,hun! xoxo

It's snowing the morning of Christmas Eve. The first time it has since they'd arrived. Sparkling white flakes float from the sky blanketing everything in sight with a thick layer of frost. He watches the dance of the specs as they fall lazily by the window. It's a magical sight. But it's got nothing on the woman lying in his bed.

She's curled up in sheets, hair a mess, and sleeping soundly. He doesn't need to check if she's naked beneath the thin material, he already knows she is, and the leg she's strewn comfortably across his side of the bed makes him long to run his fingers along the smooth, pale skin. And he would, but he hardly ever gets the chance to simply take her in. It's like admiring a piece of fine art, you wouldn't dare touch it for fear of spoiling the image. You simply...enjoy it.

Despite the weather, its toasty warm inside the cabin thanks to the fireplace. The place smells of coffee and wood and her. A unique scent that makes him feel home. He's always enjoyed the cabin, even as a child it was his favourite place. All the surrounding nature, the cosiness, the quiet. It was perfect for him, and he never thought it could get any better...until she finally agreed to join him.

She's been here before, of course. Plenty of times since they'd began this dance. But this is their first Christmas together, alone, at the cabin and he intends to make the most of both it and her before they eventually have to part ways once more. It's for that reason that, for the first time since Charlie's death, he's actually made an effort to decorate his getaway home.

He was a little rusty, didn't even know where he'd put the decorations all those years ago, but eventually he pulled something resembling 'festive' together for her. And it didn't go unnoticed or unappreciated. She loved it. Loved how warm and inviting the place felt with hues of red and green scattered around every room. Loved the way the fireplace seemed even more dreamy even though it only had one lonely stocking attached to the end. And she had especially loved that, while he had done the hard work finding a tree and positioning it inside, he'd left decorating it to her. And for him, he'd loved watching her place each decoration upon the branches with such unwavering concentration that he would swear she was approaching it the same way she did with the tech they found off world. It was heartwarming to say the least.

There's a sharp inhale of breath from the bed and he perks up at the movement. She stirs, body slowly stretching lazily like a cat. An arm reaches out to smooth over his side of the bed and he can tell she'd been expecting to find his skin beneath her fingers by the way her face scrunches when she doesn't. Its adorable and he smirks as her eyes slowly flutter open.

She regards him with curiosity, a sleepy “hey” falling from her lips before she rakes her delicate fingers through her hair. He's mesmerised by the way she moves. She has no idea how amazing she looks. “Hey”, he replies softly.

She beckons him towards her by patting the bed and he's helpless to refuse. The bed dips and rolls her into his side as he crawls his way above her. She giggles at the movement and shuffles herself back so she can peer up at him. “Morning,” she whispers before pushing up to brush her lips against his.

It's chaste, he suspects that's because she's self conscious about morning breath – she needn't be. She tastes just fine any time of day which is why he replies “Mornin, Carter!” then leans himself down to kiss her again.  

When they break apart, she's in a dreamy state of bliss that he no doubt mirrors. He loves waking up to her. Loves being able to kiss her and touch her. Run his fingers through her hair. Feel her nails lightly trail up and down his back. It's the small things. The intimate touches. The soft love.

When she opens her eyes again, she asks about the smell of coffee. The smell is stronger now and even he can't deny his own desire for caffeine. He'd brewed it earlier he tells her which elicits a sigh of utter happiness.

Reluctantly they leave the bedroom. She steals one of his oversized sweaters, something she seems to do every time they spend time together alone. He doesn't mind, though.  It's big enough to cover most of her body leaving him with the fantastic view of her long legs peeking out beneath the bottom hem. Its sexy as hell and watching her pad barefoot through the cabin dressed like that is a view he could never tire of.

They settle into an easy routine of making coffee together and before long they're curled up by the fireplace looking out the window at the snowflakes drifting by. Personally, he loves snow. Loves the cold. Always had. There was nothing like skating on ice or seeing the landscape draped in a blanket of white. It's one of his favourite times of year. And he tells her this. Rambles on about the days he played ice hockey as a teenager and how he almost broke his leg one time as a kid when he tried to jump into the frozen pond outside. He expects a giggle,or smart retort, but when he glances at her, her brows are furrowed and eyes distant. He's on instant alert.

When he asks her what's wrong; “It reminds me of Antarctica!” is all she says. He doesn't need to ask her to explain. He knows. Remembers. Between nearly dying there the first year of their gate travels then the whole frozen in an ancient pod fiasco, he doesn't blame her for associating the weather with the emotions that raged during those times. If he hadn't been so out of his mind during both those instances he would probably feel the same. He watches the snow fall with her for a moment before he gets an idea. “Go get dressed, I wanna show you something!”

She complies, curiously, and before long they're rugged up and trudging through the snow away from the cabin.

The trail he leads her up isn't difficult, even with the snow covered ground. And it's not that he doesn't think she could handle something rougher, they've certainly been through worse, but it's just not necessary for this journey. They trek upwards until they reach a peak that provides a perfect view of the cabin, pond and surrounding woodland. Its beautiful, he knows, and he's pleased when he hears her gasp at the scenery.

It's still snowing as they look over the horizon. Light flakes falling gently all around them. Its dreamy. Cold and wet as it feels, but still such a magnificent sight to behold.

“It's not like Antarctica here,” he says softly, after a while of taking in the view himself. She hums in agreement and he can see her shoulders sag, stress caused by the memories slowly easing away from her. After a while she turns and regards him with rosy cheeks and warmth in her eyes. “Thank you,” she smiles, eyes so full of adoration.

“Always,” he reminds her then moves forward to brush a sparkling snowflake from her nose. He's not surprised when she immediately leans in for a kiss. He reciprocates eagerly. Lips cold, and noses icy. They still melt into each other perfectly.

The heat from their combined breath warms their mouths until he can feel the softness again. She tastes sweet and warm and if it wasn't for the cold now stinging his fingertips, he'd quite happily stay there, on that peak, kissing her forever.

When they pull away, the heat radiates, but it's a different heat. The kind that makes them wordlessly rush home to the warmth of the open fire and the glow of the lights on the Christmas tree and the comfort of the bed. The kind that elicits soft moans or rough groans, or sometimes both at the same time. It's the kind of heat that keeps them wrapped around each other until their stomachs grumble...and then until their tired limbs succumb to sleep.

And after they fall asleep, it's he who wakes first again. The first rays of sunlight stirring him from his sated slumber.

It's snowing on Christmas morning, but he doesn't notice this time. She's wrapped around him and his hands stroking that exposed leg the way he wanted to yesterday. The smooth skin feeling like silk beneath his touch.

Outside the snowflakes fall silently, and its beautiful...but with all the magic of a snowy Christmas morning, it's got nothing on the woman lying in his bed.

**THE END**  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Fanart by me (art blog @marleywtoons on tumblr)


End file.
